


the warmth of you is sweeter than any summer

by reliquary (kwamii)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Byleth is a whole dumbass, Coach Byleth, Condoms, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Sexual Frustration, Sharing a Room, Vaginal Sex, dimitri doesn't like the heat, heatwaves are sexy, lil bit of humour if you squint, the blue lions are a volleyball team, two whole fans????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwamii/pseuds/reliquary
Summary: Garreg Mach is experiencing a heatwave, Dimitri is used to the colder Faerghus climate and Byleth can't sleep. Nothing she does is helping, so she asks Dimitri for a little relief... from the heat, of course.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 140





	the warmth of you is sweeter than any summer

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to make the Blue Lions students a volleyball team, and Byleth their coach. I'm not sure why.  
> This is also my first smut (and first FE fic!), so I hope it's a chef's kiss for you.

It was too hot. 

Byleth had travelled a lot in her youth – that kind of rootlessness was inevitable when your dad was in the military – but nowhere did she remember being quite this hot. Yeah, they were experiencing a heat wave at the moment, it was to be expected anywhere, but the problem was that the University of Garreg Mach lay deep inland, with no sea breeze to temper the searing heat. What’s more, the old university buildings were poorly insulated, with small windows and air conditioning that had been installed decades ago and was, quite frankly, struggling to do its job.

They’d had to cancel volleyball practice because the fans in the big sports hall had broken and it just wasn’t feasible to pick up a sweat in that stuffy room without windows. Byleth, as captain, had tried to string up a net outside and convince her team that they needed the training, but only Dimitri, Felix and Ingrid had had the energy for it – and volleyball, unlike badminton, is not a game that can be played in doubles. As a last-ditch resort, Byleth had bought the team ice-creams to try and boost morale, but that just ended with them lying in the grass and watching the campus go by, sweating, sticky with melted sugar.

“Sorry Byleth,” Dimitri said, always the perfect gentleman, “But it really is unbearable. As soon as the gym’s fixed, we’ll squeeze in the extra practice.”

“Yeah, about that, I think I’d rather squeeze-”

“No, Sylvain,” came Ingrid’s voice, rather flattened by the heat.

Byleth rolled onto her side to look at her team, unsticking the back of her vest from the large puddle of sweat on her spine. She was proud of her little college team. Although Byleth also played setter for the university team, she much preferred her role coaching the Blue Lions. It was thanks to her leadership that they were at the top of the college tables right now, and she couldn’t be happier with them – especially Ashe who had never played before, not even a casual game at the beach. These guys had also really brought Byleth out of her shell, Byleth who had never had a proper friend and had before considered herself to be silent and stunted. It had been a surprise to them all the first time Byleth had properly celebrated a win, had shouted and cheered and hugged with the best of them. A bigger surprise, indeed, when she got drunk that night and pretended (quite convincingly) to be a man.

So it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that they weren’t able to train today. It simply felt good to hang out with her friends, too sun-staggered to even hold a conversation. 

Dimitri had tied his long hair up to keep it from sticking to his face, and seemed to be suffering the worst of them all. He had spread-eagled himself across the grass, intending to increase his surface area for heat transfer, and caught Byleth’s pitying eye, “I’ve never been this hot in my life.”

“Yeah. I think so too.”

“It doesn’t get anywhere near this hot in Faerghus. Summer here has been such a shock to me. I’ve had to buy a fan for my room.”

“He bought two,” Dedue supplied.

“I bought two.”

Byleth sighed, imagining the mythical kind of cool that could be supplied by two fans. 

It wasn’t the worst thing though, that Dimitri came from Faerghus and couldn’t handle the summers down in Garreg Mach. It meant he kept his shirt off. She’d long discovered she liked watching him play, she liked the movement of his muscles under his skin, she liked the sheen of his sweat on him. Shirtless, she could see the lean expanse of him. Perhaps it was the heat, but the beaded moisture on his collarbone looked so inviting.

She tried to shake herself out of it. She rationalised it to herself: she didn’t have to look at him right now, after all, she’d get another chance. She’d be guaranteed to see him shirtless in the morning too, in the flat kitchen with his hair up so he could concentrate on cooking breakfast. That was the Dimitri she liked best, the domesticated side of the beast. She liked the open, gentle face with the hair scraped back, and she liked knowing he had come straight from bed to be there. She liked him slightly lazy with sleep, without the usual attention in his manner. She even liked the strange mottled burn on his chest and the way his skin turned ugly. He’d hid it, originally, but then he learned that Byleth didn’t react to it and started rolling out of bed as he was. 

So either the heat in Garreg Mach was truly unbearable or Dimitri too had become more comfortable around his friends. It was probably still a bit of both. 

The utter lack of any cloud or breeze in the awful heat sent the Blue Lions back inside before the hour had ended. Instead, they all decided to sit in the common room, which was cooler than any of their small bedrooms. Ashe bought them beers, but not enough. Annette bought more ice cream and made sundaes that melted too fast. Mercedes folded everyone a paper fan to keep the worst of the heat away. Sylvain encouraged everyone to strip. 

Soon, it was time for bed. Usually they’d stay up far longer after a practice, but the heat had taken everyone’s energy away and they retired to bed far sooner than usual, to suffer the heat alone. As soon as Byleth entered her room, she realised she had committed a grave error that morning. Her room, which had faced into the sun all afternoon, had not even had a window open to let in the outside air. The heat was so bad it almost choked her. She rushed to the other side of the room, flung open all of her too-small windows, and leant against the sill, fanning herself with the bit of paper Mercedes has made, while she thought how to fix it, make it better. She tied her hair up. She took her clothes off. She wondered if putting her sheets in the freezer would help. She thought: why not? and left to put her sheets in the freezer.

Byleth spent the next hour or so, having first put her clothes back on, in the common room attempting to tire herself out. That was one thing she had learned during her restless youth: if you were tired enough, you’d learn to sleep anywhere. So she read a chapter of her political philosophy textbook. She did fifty sit-ups and almost as many push-ups. She played table tennis against the wall. She checked her sheets. They were blissfully cold, and noticeably damp. But cold. 

Mission now complete, she retreated back to her room, which was still hot, albeit less so. As soon as her skin felt the stickiness of the air, she knew falling asleep there would be more difficult than she had first imagined. She considered going back to the common room and sleeping on the couch there – but then she remembered walking in on Sylvain fucking a girl from the Golden Deer, not just the one time, on that selfsame couch and decided against that idea. Maybe she should give up on sleeping and do her seminar work for the next two weeks. Then again, the thought of her back sticking sweaty onto the old office chair at her desk made her shudder.

There was only one thing for it. She’d tire herself out further and then suck it up and suffer. She’d do what she usually did before bed to relax and sink herself into sleep: have a wank.

Byleth lay her now-slightly-less-cold sheets onto the bed and herself on top of it. She was surprised that the dampness didn’t bother her as much as she’d thought it would, likely because she was already so wet with her own sweat that she barely noticed the sensation of some other wetness. The cool against her skin was wonderful. It was easy enough to let herself be dragged under by the loveliness and inch her fingers under her boxer shorts to touch herself. 

She started softly, but the heat coiled up fast, wound itself tightly around her, until she was burning under her fingers. She’d find just the right angle, just the right pressure, and feel herself want to spill over, but then, inevitably, be distracted by the thick, suffocating heat of her room. Her limbs felt meltingly clumsy. It was just as lovely to touch itself as it was uncomfortable, and it wasn’t lovely enough. She was so distracted, barely kept herself present in her touch. It was too hot. Her mind wandered off to think of Dimitri. His splinter-blue eyes. His long, toned torso. How he’d look in bed. _The two fans in his room._

Byleth disengaged her fingers. 

There was no way she could sleep like this, even without the covers, even without her clothes. This was quite simply unbearable, and she was desperate. 

She found herself at Dimitri’s bedroom door, where she knocked timidly. The light shining from around the edge of it betrayed that he was still awake, and it didn’t take him long to come to the door, “Hi, anything up?”

He was still without his shirt. He was so attractive like that, she’d always found him so. It felt indecent to ask.

“I’m so sorry, but I didn’t open my windows today and my room is actually like a sauna right now, there’s no way I’m going to get to sleep today. I was wondering…”

“No worries,” he smiled, “You can take the bed.”

Her mind did a back-flip trying to process that, but luckily her face betrayed nothing as usual, “I think you misunderstood. I was going to ask if I could steal one of your fans.”

He blushed, “Oh, sorry. That was probably a, uh, peculiar suggestion.”

“No, not at all, I…”

“I just thought…”

“You know, I know you struggle with the heat, it was really quite a sensible thing for you to say, given the circumstances. I mean, there’s a reason you have two. It’s probably unfair of me to ask. Probably can’t survive with just the one tonight, huh? Really, your idea was better.”

She was babbling. She wasn’t sure if it was the heat or his bare chest making her senile.

“Okay then. Are you comfortable taking the bed?”

Dimitri was just too straightforward. He’d taken her babbling at face value and now… though the idea did sound really good. She could hear his fan running, and the argument it levelled to her right now was the most articulate and convincing of argument. “I can’t take the bed.”

“I’m going to be working till late anyway, so my light’s going to be on. If I’m going to keep you up, I might as well give you the bed.”

“No, it’s your bed.”

“The couch is comfortable enough for me, I’ve slept there before.”

There was no use arguing: Dimitri could be quite authoritative when he chose to be. Byleth quirked a smile, characteristically sardonic, “Alright, if you insist.” 

With the first step into his room came great relief. It wasn’t cool by any means, but at least five degrees colder than hers. The fans whirred at each end of the room, and when they turned, there was the blissful cool she’d sought. Dimitri’s room was an oasis. It was neat, with tiny touches of warmth here and there in the pictures of his childhood friends, his old varsity ribbons. It was non-pretentious, with only a few books stacked on his desk to suggest at his quick intelligence. And also…

“Three fans.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Though I don’t think the desk fan counts.”

“I guess not.”

Though Byleth felt uncomfortable about it, she took the bed, and Dimitri returned to his desk to finish that night’s work. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t talk to myself when I work,” he smiled.

“Okay.”

Times like these, Byleth wished she’d retained her sense of emotional cool. A few months ago, she would not have felt awkward, but now her heart felt squished too tight in her chest and she didn’t know what to say or do or even how to breathe right. She decided to sleep under the covers – although he’d seen her in the kitchen in her pyjamas, a vest top and boxers, she felt far too exposed in his bedroom. It was warm under the covers but still bearable. 

There were, however, two issues. Firstly, the bed, presumably because he slept in it, smelt impossibly good. Second, now that she had stopped to lay down, she remembered she had come over at rather an inopportune time. Mid-wank, in fact. She had been close, and her pussy still ached. The wet heat between her legs was too much to bear, almost as unbearable as the scorching heat of her room. Could she…

She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But Dimitri was working, back turned to her. And his bed did smell so good. 

Byleth moved her hand carefully into the waistband of her boxer shorts. She’d only be quick. This was, after all, supposed to be quick, something to take the edge off of sleep. The pressure against her clit was a relief, and he hadn’t noticed her move, couldn’t possibly have heard his sheets rustle over the multiple fans running in his room. Cautiously, she began to move her finger in slow circles against the hard nub there. And faster. He remained blissfully unaware. 

There was something undeniably thrilling about touching herself like this in his room, just a few metres away from him. She could look at his strong shoulders and biceps as she stroked herself, she could smell the remnants of his cologne on the sheets. He smelled somehow deep, head. He smelled like pine and a touch of sweat, the honey-smell from his shampoo on his pillows. She felt as though she were being subsumed in his scent, it felt like their joyous hugs on court after a match well-played, and it elated her to be held in it. It was the weirdest thing she’d wanked to in her life, she felt like a bit of a creep doing it, but she couldn’t help but be turned on. He had no idea that she was fucking herself silly to the thought of him. 

What would he do if he knew? There was a strange duality to Dimitri that made him utterly unpredictable. Would he be polite, maybe cough and pretend he didn’t notice, never bring it up again? Probably. But what if he acted like the hidden beast? What if he turned sharp like a predator, studied her and swallowed her and gored her on his horns? She knew he was capable of it, and the danger made her electric. 

Sparks shot through her as she found just the right angle to continue rubbing and she closed her eyes in bliss. She could feel how wet she was from the way her fingers were gliding across her. Her hips instinctively began to buck up into her touch. Her legs began to shake. She had a faint sensation of her orgasm approaching, as though she were on top of a building and aware that she must fall. 

“What are you doing?”

Byleth froze up in surprise, quickly taking her hand out of her pants. Dimitri had turned to face her, and was watching her intently. 

“Nothing,” she said, far too fast.

He crossed his hands over his chest, “It didn’t look like nothing.”

His tone didn’t sound nonchalant. In fact, she didn’t recognise his tone at all from previous conversations they’d had. 

Byleth had no idea what to say so she told him the truth, “I’m so, so, so sorry. I was… I was trying to be quick. I know it’s weird to do it when you’re literally right there, but…”

“Show me what you were doing.”

Shock and embarrassment surged over her like a big red wave. “I…”

He leaned forward in his chair, his gaze so intense now that it almost winded her, “I want to know.”

“I was… touching myself.”

He let out a breath, “Okay. How?”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“I’ve always wanted to see what you look like.”

“Huh?”

Her surprise snapped him out of whatever reverie he was in. He sat back upwards in a jolt, lips tight and embarrassed, “I’m sorry, that was too much. Forget it. That was creepy.”

‘You’re not the one touching yourself in your friend’s bedroom’, she wanted to say, but decided not to. What she said instead was, “What do you mean?”

“Like… this is going to be too honest. But I’ve dreamt about this. About you. In my bed.”

Her mouth went dry, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah,” he said, and went quiet, gripping the arms of his seat. It was a moment before he spoke, “This is probably wishful thinking, but was it me?”

“Huh?” she said again, and hated herself for how dumb she sounded.

“Was it me? The reason you were…” he hesitated.

“Yeah. A little.”

“Oh,” he breathed, and there was something else behind that sound.

She lay there awkwardly, trying not to get her wet fingers on his sheets.

“Show me then.”

Byleth knew how to recognise an order, she’d given out many on the pitch. But it was the first time Dimitri had ever told her what to do, and his voice made the submission delicious.

“Okay.”

Goosebumps rose down her flesh as she pulled back the sheets, showing him her boxer shorts that he’d seen many times before at breakfast, but never like this, never with that deep, dark look in his eyes and her crotch in his full view. His eyes trailed over her body briefly, down the length of her parted legs and back up when she slid her hand into her pants again. She resumed what she was doing before, moving her finger in small circles against her clit. Dimitri could see the shape of her finger by the way the boxers bulged, and he was fascinated by the ridge of her knuckles beneath the material.

“I was doing this.”

“Because…”

“Of you.”

“You couldn’t help yourself?”

“No,” she admitted, slightly breathless, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“That’s good,” he said.

It was good. If it was nice doing in secret, it was better doing it when his fascination was so apparent. He seemed almost hypnotised by the small circles she was making. 

“Can you take your clothes off?”

She could. She happily did. Byleth tugged her boxers down, having to peel them away from her core, which was damp with a mixture sweat and arousal. The sensation of being exposed to the slightly cool air made her want to moan, but she managed to keep the sound in her throat. She couldn’t, however, help but choke when she noticed how intently he was looking at her. She almost wanted to close her legs, but she was kept rapt by his own rapture.

“Your top too.”

Obediently, Byleth sat up to remove it.

“That top drives me crazy every morning. You never wear a bra beneath. Your tits are so perfect.”

The compliments stopped her from reflexively closing her arms to shield herself. In fact, she pushed her chest proudly forwards, enjoying the way his eyes were drinking her in.

“You’re the one with the perfect pecs. I’ve had to watch you shirtless all this time. Do you blame me?”

“No,” he said, “God knows I’ve done the same.”

Dimitri stood up and came closer to her, and she felt a low heat pool between her thighs in expectation of what would happen next. She noticed his fingers twitched slightly, perhaps unsure what he wanted to touch first. Now that he stood closer, she noticed how dark his eyes had become, his pupils fully dilated. He looked as though he could devour her.

But when his lips pressed to hers, the kiss was chaste. His fingers cupped her cheek and gently pulled her to his mouth. She sunk into the sensation, letting him set the pace. He tasted like the coffee he had drunk to keep him awake, and she wanted to drink him back. His cheek was slightly rough against her skin, and a single tendril of his beautiful blonde hair brushed her cheek. He only made her hotter. 

When he had kissed her for a minute, maybe two, he took her hand. She hadn’t touched him with it, since her fingers were still wet. Byleth wasn’t sure why that felt like an obstacle when she’d literally just let him look. She watched as he took her fingers and pressed them to his mouth, inhaling her scent. It felt far too intimate and she felt like whimpering. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“You too,” she said, again feeling quite dumb about her wordlessness. 

“Let me look at you.”

Byleth lay back onto the pillows, embarrassed but opening herself up to him nonetheless. She should’ve been more hesitant, she felt, but with his smell all over her she felt every drop of resistance disappear. He was allowed to look. She liked him looking. She let her legs fall open wider. 

His eyes lingered where they wanted, before eventually meeting hers again. Her hands were balled up close to her face, one finger prodding at her bottom lip as though, in her anxiety, she were considering biting the nail.

Gently, Dimitri took hold of her wrist, “You can trust me.”

He brought her hand away and ran it down over her body, quite satisfied that it should be her fingers trailing against her nipples instead of his. His fingers were wrapped around her wrist and guiding her fingertips over her curls, past her aching clit and into the slick warm heat of her cunt.

“Oh,” she gasped. 

He kept his hand there, pressing her down deep into herself, eyes fixated to the point where her finger disappeared into her heat. For a moment, neither of them moved. She was happy to have something filling her up at last, enjoying the weight of his hand against her pubic bone. The heat of his skin made her dizzy. She wanted more. 

Dimitri saw her knuckle flex, almost imperceptibly, the fine tendons in her hand rising up to meet it, and groaned. 

“It’s okay,” he breathed, “You can move. Please.”

Byleth curled her finger into her walls again with a little muffled sigh. And again. He watched her as she stroked herself, ever so slowly. He could see the small trail of wetness on her finger as she crooked her finger in and out again and longed to taste it.

He told her so, “I wish that were my tongue.”

She whimpered. His breath ghosted over her cheek and tickled the hairs by her ear. Her pussy felt strangely bereft.

“I want to know how you taste. I want to press my tongue against you, I want my tongue inside you.”

“Yes. Please,” she sighed, stopping her hand for a moment in expectation of it. 

“No, keep going, you have to keep going,” he begged, “I want to feel you wet for me. I can’t wait to put my dick in you.”

With a moan, Byleth’s eyes rolled shut, her head tilting back against the pillows. His dick… somehow she hadn’t imagined until then that it would end that way. She was mesmerised by how he could be so gentle yet still so forceful and fierce, how he could intoxicate her with such ease. She felt the radiant heat of him, smelt the musk of him, heard his ragged breathing and her own wetness as she slipped a second finger in. She felt the rapidly expanding heat deep in her stomach, sparks of arousal that made her tremble. His hand was still locked around her wrist, dangerously close to her mons, and she could almost imagine those two fingers were his. How delicious his fingers would feel, longer and thicker than hers. How delicious his cock. 

Daringly, she slid in a third finger, up to the knuckle, keening at the stretch. 

Dimitri’s breath came out like a half-sobbed prayer, “Beautiful, baby. You’re so beautiful like this.”

The pet name sent a jolt through her that she couldn’t describe. She opened her eyes to look at him, eyes glazed and wild. The stare that met hers was as intense as lightning and razor-sharp. His eyes roved over her face, the flushed cheeks and the panting, inviting mouth. He took the invitation and kissed her again, finally, hungrily. She moaned into him, her other hand grasping frantically at his back as though it were a lifeline. Byleth wanted desperately to buck up and let him envelop her but his steadying hand kept her back flush against the mattress and her hips with nothing but her fingers to satisfy her. But his lips were soft and warm and insistent and his tongue was in her mouth, sealing off her little noises. Her own mouth was pliant, happily submitting to whatever he gave her. She could melt in him. 

Dimitri broke with some resistance from the kiss to move his lips to her neck, dragging his teeth against the pulse point there. He wanted to mark her, bring up the hidden colours behind her skin and paint her all over. He wanted to latch his lips around her nipples. He wanted, still, to press his tongue against her slit and see how she tasted. And he needed to feel how tight and warm she’d be when he finally has her on his cock.

His mouth followed the trajectory of his thoughts, down to her hipbones, and Byleth whined at his closeness. He was close enough that if she bucked into her fingers any harder she would likely bruise his nose, but he did not seem to mind. His other hand pushed her legs further open, his thumb teasingly set at the juncture of her thigh. His breath fanned her curls. But further than that, no more.

“Are you going to lick me?” she said, in a small, pleading voice.

“No. I’m going to get my dick out now, if that’s okay.”

“Oh yes. Please.”

She hadn’t factored in that his doing so would require him to let her go, and in her need she could almost have wept at the loss of his warmth. He kept his eyes on her as he stood up and shucked off his trousers. He took in her sprawled limbs and her wet cunt on proud display, and couldn’t get himself out of his boxers quickly enough. When he took his erection in his hand, he was met with the most gratifying, unbelievably sexy, sigh. He felt his cock twitch in anticipation of her making that sound again. 

Byleth’s mouth felt as though it was dry and watering at the same time. His dick curved temptingly towards the fine snail-trail of hair below his navel, red and angry at the tip, a thick vein that she longed to lick tempering towards the base. She watched, transfixed, as he pumped himself once, twice, slowly in his hand. Her fingers instinctively matched the pace, pistoning deeper now, lingering on the soft sensitive tissue there.

Mouth open in a silent plea, she reached out her other hand to him.

“Do you want me, baby?”

She nodded frantically.

“How?”

“I don’t know. I just want you. I want your dick.”

Dimitri’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he crawled up to meet her. She felt the pressure of his cock against her leg and pushed her hips into it, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath. She couldn’t wait much longer for him now that she had him so close. Emboldened, she reached her hand between them, wet with her slick, and pressed gently against his base. He slid himself into the waiting heat of her palm with a sigh so soft she thought she’d imagined it. But he bucked into her hand again, moving his hips all the way up so she barely ghosted over his tip. 

“Are you done, baby?”

“Huh?”

“I was hoping I’d get to watch you come on your fingers.”

“Oh.” It occurred to her she probably could have. She’d never felt so turned on as she had when he had watched her. It would have been a pleasure to come for him. “I’m sorry, I got too excited.” 

“You knew it wouldn’t feel half as good without my cock?” he teased.

But her reply was earnest, “Yeah.”

He breath hitched in his throat. His voice was shaky with desire, “Is it okay if I fuck you now?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Let me get a condom.”

And then he stood up again. He retrieved a condom from the bedside table and stood back before her at the foot of the bed, rolling it onto himself with a smile that was almost smug, pushing his hips forwards to get it on to the very base. Part of her felt almost sad to see his beautiful dick wrapped up like this, but Byleth had little time to process the feeling because he suddenly grabbed her ankles and, with a squeal of surprise she couldn’t muffle, pulled her to the edge of the bed.

Dimitri stepped between her legs and she instantly locked them around his waist; there was no way he was leaving her now. This time, she was the one to guide his hand. She reached forward and rubbed his shaft along the length of her, nudging his head against her sensitive, wanting clit. She tilted her hips up, felt his tip drag on the edge of her hole, took in a sharp breath. Then he pushed his hips forwards, and he slid in, inch by glorious inch until he was seated to the hilt and gasping almost as much as her. 

He was right. Her fingers couldn’t compare to the feeling of his dick pushing up against her walls, thick and warm and hard. She tightened around him, reflexively, to feel his size better, and he groaned.

“Fuck.”

The feeling of her, tight and snug around his length, spurred Dimitri on to move. He tilted his hips forward, until he was deep as he could possibly go, enjoying the way her eyes widened at the new intensity. Then he pulled out slowly, until Byleth felt almost emptied out, noting the new expression that rose to her face at the change. With a sharp thrust, he was back inside her and she gasped with pleasure. Her face in that moment was divine. He wanted to see it again.

Dimitri moved like that for a while, deep and long thrusts into her pussy that were met with her bitten off sounds, him studying her all the while. Her hands clutched at his collarbones, trying to take him deeper into her, trying to pull him closer to her silent, begging, sinful mouth. He obliged. His hands landed either side of her head as he brought his body closer to hers, her nipples brushing his skin on the upstroke. He fucked her deeper now, and she cried out at the contact, arcing into his touch. Byleth’s little sighs turned into sobs as she desperately chased his cock, chased her orgasm, and burst over it with a suddenness that surprised him, babbling into his collarbone as she did so.

“So good, so good, Dima, oh god, you, oh baby, so good.” 

It took everything Dimitri had not to cum with her as her walls clenched around him, as she pressed him deeper with her legs as she rode it out, pressed endearments into his skin. It felt unbelievably good to see Byleth crumble like this, Byleth with her few words and her inscrutable face, Byleth who was now crying out for him, and only him. A little possessive part of him snatched up the way she looked, unravelling before him, and stored it away as _his_. He didn’t want to leave the warmth of her yet, not until he’d made it his too, and stilled himself right on the edge. His hips, following their instinct, continued to thrust shallowly into her as her breathing grew heavy again.

“Do you want to come again?”

“Mm. Please.”

“On your knees.”

Shakily, she disentangled herself from him and turned herself over, reddening under his gaze. Dimitri ran his hand over her arse reverently, taking his finger up under the flesh of it and across to her labia. She shivered, pushing back against his hand, her ass waving in the air.

“You’ve such a pretty cunt. All pink and swollen. So wet. It’s practically glistening.”

Byleth hummed in pleasure and embarrassment, burying her face in the pillows so he couldn’t see her rising blush. She heard the shift of his legs before she felt his skin brush against the backs of her legs, and the pressure of his finger was replaced by something thicker just against her opening. She wanted to push herself back onto him, stretch herself around him, but Dimitri’s hand at the base of her spine said patience.

He touched her a little first. He slid his hand up her sides, gently skimming past her breasts, up to the base of her neck, and with a gentle rock of his hips, he entered her again. She gasped, and he could feel the flutter of her windpipe on his fingers, soft though his grip was. This time, Dimitri didn’t hold back. He fucked her in earnest. He impaled her roughly on his cock, pulling her hips back onto his to get deeper into that tight, inviting heat. He noticed, dimly, her fingers clawing at the pillows as she cried out into them. 

That wouldn’t do. “I want to hear you.”

Byleth shook her head, embarrassed at the noise she was making.

The hand at her throat tugged her roughly back so that her back arched back into his body heat, and she scrabbled for the headboard to hold onto, unable to stay upright through his hard thrusts. A long, choked-off moan fell from her lips.

His mouth was centimetres from her ear, and he nibbled it roughly before speaking, “I want to hear what I do to you.”

His voice was a low vibrato and it moved right through her. She couldn’t deny him when his voice sounded like that. Her head tipped back, exposing the long column of her throat, and his hand moved to meet it. He didn’t press down, simply held her neck to anchor her to his body, to see if he could feel her moans vibrate through. She wasn’t holding herself back now, but crying out on every thrust, and he could only groan in answer. Dimitri would never be able to look at her mouth again without wanting to fuck himself into it, knowing it could make sounds as sweet as that.

The thought of next time taking her mouth had him unbearably close to the edge. Frantically, he reached down and rubbed her clit, faster than he’d seen her do. Her moans became louder, twisted around profanities and blasphemies and, most importantly, his name. The deep, erratic thrusts into her pussy combined with the sweet friction on her clit had her coming again, cresting over into orgasm with a long sigh. The pleasure of it shattered her, and she became quite boneless in his grip.

“Please Dima.”

Dimitri knew what she meant. With five more long, deep thrusts, he came. She felt the low pulse of his cock that accompanied each spurt of his cum, and the movement felt unbelievably good massaging against her walls. She wished she could have felt the hotness and wetness of his release in her, the sensation of being sticky with him. Her pussy tightened again at the thought, and she was rewarded with a moan tickling her ear.

After a long, breathy moment, he eased himself out of her with a wet sound that seemed almost obscene. Byleth was too embarrassed to look back at him. The sudden emptiness between her legs was staggering somehow and she collapsed into the bed to alleviate it, to feel something against her again. There were sounds behind her that indicated the condom being taken off and disposed of. Her brain thought dumbly of the wasted cum that could right now have been pooling between her legs. 

Then she felt his hand on the small of her back as he joined her, “Are you okay?”

“Mm. That was exhausting.”

“It was okay though?” he said, slipping back into gentleness, making sure.

“Definitely okay. Surprising. More than okay.”

She rolled onto her side to look at him, bask in his glow. Dimitri’s hair had loosened somewhat from his ponytail, and hung before his eyes, plastered to his sweat-slicked forehead. His entire body was flushed with exertion. A tantalising bead of sweat materialised on his chest and she was seized with the temptation to lick him all over. She changed this, when she told him, to kissing: “And I would, I’d really like to, except...”

A laugh rose to his eyes, “Except?”

“It’s way too hot in here. I’d stick to you.”

“Not a problem. I’m not exactly in a rush to get you off of me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve thought about this too much to want to stop touching you now.”

And Byleth had thought too much about those splendid biceps to care that when they wrapped around her tight, they were a little more sweaty than was strictly ideal. 

“I’m glad at least something good came out of the weather.”

She smiled into his collarbone, “Dima, I’ve heard you moan about the heat more times than I can count. I don’t think you’ll suddenly enjoy the rest of the summer just because of this. You know you can’t handle the warmth.”

“No,” he said, simply, after a pause, “But I do think the warmth of you is sweeter than any summer.”

**Author's Note:**

> "I wish I was one of your fans, Dimitri."  
> "Why?"  
> "Wanna blow you."  
> *dimitri splutters out his coffee*


End file.
